


tonight's just fire alarms (new friends are golden)

by lye_kisses



Series: fire alarms [1]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Band, Fire Alarms, First Meetings, M/M, hot neighbor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 07:13:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6556864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lye_kisses/pseuds/lye_kisses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick is half-asleep, slumped and drooling over the keyboard of his macbook, when the fire alarm goes off.</p>
<p>or: the fire alarm in Patrick's building goes off, and he gets a little more than he bargained for when he meets Pete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tonight's just fire alarms (new friends are golden)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writteninstony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writteninstony/gifts).



> this was started about a year ago, and then finished over the past month for my best friend's birthday (love you hanna!!!). it's the first fic i've finished in a long, long time. 
> 
> inspired by an amalgamation of several tumblr prompts that i can no longer recall the exact details of, but have something to do with fire alarms and hot neighbors.

Patrick is half-asleep, slumped and drooling over the keyboard of his MacBook, when the fire alarm goes off. The shrill sound startles him to attention, and it takes him a second of panic to realize that the noise is coming from the hallway, not inside his apartment. Once he’s certain that his tiny apartment hasn’t suddenly gone up in flames, Patrick sighs. His building is old, and the wiring is faulty, so sometimes the alarms go off for no reason. Patrick supposes that it could be a real fire, but the three false alarms last July make him think otherwise.

Patrick slips on a pair of sneakers and grabs the blanket that's thrown across his couch: a giant, purple mess that he's had as long as he can remember. It's ugly as hell, but it's one of the warmest things he owns, and Patrick really can't be bothered to figure out where he left his jacket. Plus, if there really is a fire (which Patrick doubts, but still) he needs to get out as fast as he can. It’s justifiable laziness.

As soon as he's finished cocooning himself in his blanket, Patrick leaves his apartment, making sure to turn off the light and close the door behind him.

Patrick is still half asleep when he stumbles down the three flights of stairs it takes to get to the lobby of his apartment building, but once he steps outside, the cold night air is like a double shot of espresso. People are already gathered in front of the building, speculating about the cause of the alarm, and grumbling over being ripped from their beds. Even though the conversation is light, Patrick’s never been good at small talk, and he isn’t exactly in the mood to make nice with the little old lady that lives down the hall. Instead, he moves off to the side, where there are a lot less people, and leans against a streetlamp, pulling his blanket a little tighter around himself.

He starts humming the song he was working on earlier, trying to decide if he likes where he’s going with it, when he hears a quiet “Shit!”

He turns his head to see where the noise came from and- wow. Patrick has to do a double take, because there’s no way the guy that’s standing under the streetlight a few feet away is real. For one thing, he’s probably the most attractive guy Patrick has ever seen; he’s all caramel colored skin and tattoos and chiseled stomach, practically the polar opposite of Patrick’s pale and pudgy.

The thing that really makes Patrick look twice though is hot guy’s outfit: he’s wearing nothing but tight purple boxer briefs patterned with tiny skulls (Patrick totally isn’t staring at his crotch), and a pair of black, furry ugg boots. Patrick isn’t even comfortable enough in his own skin to sleep without a shirt during the summer, let alone in the middle of January in Chicago. He’s pretty sure the guy is insane.

Patrick watches him for a few minutes (and okay, maybe he is staring at the guy’s crotch a little), wondering how the guy can still play games on his phone without dropping it, because he’s got to be shivering, it’s like below freezing, or at least it feels like it is. Even though hot guy seems unphased by the subarctic temperature, it doesn’t mean he isn’t cold. Patrick really doesn’t want him to catch hypothermia or something (for mostly selfish reasons, but whatever), so he musters up the courage to say “Um, hey, aren’t you cold?”

Hot guy looks up from his phone and over at Patrick and- shit, is that eyeliner smudged around his eyes? Patrick didn’t think the man could get any hotter, but the universe always seems to be proving him wrong.

“Oh yeah, I mean it’s a little chilly.” Hot guy says with a shrug, before going back to tapping on his phone. Patrick is convinced this guy is just as crazy as he is hot, but he’s not about to be responsible for him catching his death.

“Do you maybe wanna, um, - I have a lot of room under here if you’re cold.” Patrick speaks up again, silently cursing his awkward nature.

“Thanks man, I’d love to,” Hot guy says with a grin that Patrick thinks could melt the ice crystals that he’s pretty sure are forming on his cold-watery eyes.

Patrick holds the blanket out, letting hot guy wrap himself in it so they’re facing each other. His arm brushes against Patrick’s, and for someone who’s been outside in the cold in next to nothing, his skin is surprisingly warm, or at least not completely frozen.

“I run hot,” he supplies, sensing Patrick’s confusion. “I’ve always been that way, although seriously, thanks for offering me shelter under your blanket, my balls were totally starting to freeze. I’m Pete, by the way.”

“Patrick, and you’re welcome” Patrick mumbles awkwardly, very pointedly trying not to think about what Pete’s got under his briefs when they’re practically pressed together.

Patrick doesn’t know how to start a conversation with Pete now that they’re huddled together; he didn’t really come up with a game plan other than ‘ask cute guy to snuggle while also stopping him from freezing to death’. They stand in awkward silence for a few moments, and Patrick is just about to ask if Pete knows anything about why they’re all standing out here in the first place, when Pete says “So who’s your favorite ninja turtle?”

Patrick stares blankly for a second, completely confused, before he remembers that he’s wearing his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pajama pants his mom gave him for Christmas last year. He hopes that he can blame the surge of pink to his cheeks on the cold.

Patrick isn’t sure if Pete’s making fun of him or not; on top of being hot and crazy Pete could also be a giant dick. Patrick still answers “Donatello,” though, because Pete did ask for his favorite ninja turtle, he might as well give him the real answer.

 “Oh, way cool man, mine is Michelangelo, ‘cause we both like pizza and partying.” Pete replies, grinning again, and maybe he is being genuine. Pete is even cooler than Patrick thought.

Pete starts going on about the ninja turtles, he might be even more excited about them than Patrick is, which is honestly impressive. Patrick really likes the ninja turtles.

“I still have all the toys from when I was a kid, although I left most of them at my parents’ house. I told my mom that I wanted her to save them for when I have kids, but really I just like to mess around with them when I go home to visit.” Pete says, sounding a little nostalgic. Patrick thinks he should probably find the fact that Pete still plays with toys weird, but the image of someone as attractive as Pete on his knees, acting out adventures with his favorite cartoon characters is, for some reason, endearing. Plus, okay, it’s not like Patrick minds imagining Pete on his knees.

“Oh, and I have a Michelangelo plushie that my buddy Mikey gave me the last time he and his band were in town!” Pete continues, unaware of Patrick’s perverted fantasies. Patrick is ripped out of his fantasies, however, by the word ‘band’.

“Your friend is in a band?” Patrick asks, interest piqued. Patrick likes talking about music even more than he likes talking about his favorite 80's cartoons.

“Yeah dude, with his brother and his brother’s boyfriend, they’re fucking awesome. We met when our bands went on tour together. I miss the little guys.” Pete says, sounding wistful.  
Patrick has to struggle to keep his jaw from hitting the floor. Not only is Pete hot, and oddly adorable, but he’s also in a band? If Patrick weren’t freezing his ass off, he’d think he were still asleep in bed, because Pete is literally his dream boyfriend.

“Wait, you’re in a band too?” Patrick says coolly, trying (and probably failing) to conceal his rapidly-growing crush on Pete.

“Yeah,” Pete says with a smile that makes Patrick’s heart flutter. He can practically see the stage lights reflected in Pete’s eyes. “Well, I was. We ended it a while ago.” Pete shrugs, he doesn’t seem too torn up about it. “Just time for me and the guys to go our separate ways.”

“What was it called?” Patrick is definitely going to check out Pete’s music as soon as they’re allowed back inside.

“Arma Angelus,” Pete says, like the proudest of parents.

Holy shit. “Dude, I’ve totally seen you guys play before!” Patrick says, excited and amazed that he and Pete’s paths have crossed before tonight.

Pete looks absolutely giddy. “Are you serious? What did you think? Did you like me- I mean us?”

If Patrick’s being honest, Pete kind of sucked, at least from a technical standpoint. He’s not the most proficient bass player, or vocalist Patrick’s ever heard, but he remembers Pete’s energy on stage being particularly infectious, spreading light like a supernova throughout the seedy little bar that the band was playing in. “You were great.” Patrick says, completely sincere.

“You really think so?” Pete beams, shifting impossibly closer to Patrick.

“One of the best I’ve ever seen.” Patrick replies, and, okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but it’s worth it to keep Pete smiling.

“You must not have been to very many shows then.” Pete says, half joking.

Patrick snorts unattractively before he can stop himself. “The opposite actually. I’m a musician too, so I like to get out to as many shows as possible”

Pete’s grin grows impossibly wider. “No way Tricky, no way.” Normally Patrick would scold at the use of a nickname, he hates being called anything but his given name, but he likes the way it sounds in Pete’s mouth. “It’s like we’re destined to be together.”

Patrick feels his cheeks heat up at Pete’s statement. He’s pretty sure that he means it in a totally platonic way, Pete hasn’t really given him any evidence to believe otherwise (besides the way he’s been subtly encroaching closer and closer into Patrick’s personal space, and the glowing looks Pete’s been shooting him), but Patrick certainly wouldn’t mind if Pete meant it in a non-platonic way. Sure he’s only known Pete for what, fifteen minutes tops, but he can’t deny that his attraction has only grown since he first spotted him.

Pete is far too pretty and perfect for Patrick though. With the luck Patrick has, Pete is probably one hundred percent straight, or even worse, has a girlfriend. Patrick’s learned the hard way that just because a dude is rocking eye makeup and clothes from the junior’s section of Target, doesn’t mean he’s at all interested in cock. Especially not Patrick’s cock, unfortunately.

Patrick decides to casually laugh off Pete’s comment. “I guess we are.”

“No, seriously dude,” Pete says, gesturing wildly, waving his part of the blanket around with him. “I think this is a sign from, like, the universe or something. Like, are you taken?”

“W-what?” Patrick stutters out, a little taken aback. Maybe Pete was hitting on him after all. It’s not like he’d be opposed.

“I mean, like, are you playing with anyone? Do you have a band?” Pete says, wide eyed and hopeful.

“Not currently, no.” Patrick replies. “I’ve played with some guys in the past, but nothing legit’s ever come out of it. Right now I’m just messing around and writing stuff for myself.”

“We should totally jam together sometime!” Pete says, happily bouncing on his feet. “Just to bounce ideas off of each other, get a second opinion, y’know?”

“That would be great.” Patrick says, returning Pete’s genuine smile with one of his own. He doesn’t usually agree to make plans with people he just met, (he honestly struggles to make plans with his closest friends sometimes), but there’s something about Pete that makes him want to break all his rules.

“So it’s a date then?” Pete says, corner of his mouth turning up into a slight smirk.

Patrick’s eyes widen like saucers, and he nearly chokes on his next inhale of breath. “Uh, I mean... if you’re into that?” Honestly everything about this night seems like a dream, or some kind of sick joke. Patrick’s luck is usually more of the kind that comes with shattering a mirror or walking under a ladder, but he’s starting to think that maybe things are actually starting to go in his favor.

“Oh , I’d definitely be into that,” Pete says with a wink and a grin that’s borderline salacious.

Patrick doesn’t think that this night could get much better, but he’s proven wrong when a muscular, blonde firefighter that Patrick would find stunningly attractive had he not been snuggled up against Pete comes outside, announcing to the crowd that it was a false alarm and that they have the all-clear to go back inside. As much as Patrick wants to keep standing here and talking to Pete, he’s pretty sure that both of them are going to start to grow icicles soon. Patrick is no medical professional, but he’s almost certain that frozen body parts are no good.

“Hey, can I walk you back to your apartment?” Pete asks as everyone starts filing back into the building. “It’s the least I can do, since you shared your warmth with me and all.”

“You just want to see where I live, don’t you.” Patrick yawns, as they start the long trudge up the stairs. Now that they’re back inside, the sleepiness that Patrick felt earlier is starting to kick in again, but he’s too impatient to wait for an overcrowded elevator.

“Maybe,” Pete shrugs, adorable smirk crossing his features again. “Might wanna drop in for a surprise visit. Or a not so surprise visit, if you give me your number. I believe you agreed to a date?”

“Technically I never said yes,” Patrick jokes as they turn around another corner of the staircase.

Pete’s face falls ever so slightly. “Oh, well, yeah, I mean, that’s true, and we did just meet-”

“I never said no either.” Patrick says, cutting him off. Like he’s going to say no to Pete, actual hottest guy in the universe.

Pete’s face immediately bounces back to the happy expression he was wearing before. “Don’t play me like that Trick.”

“Sorry dude, couldn’t resist,” Patrick says, pushing open the door to his floor. Pete grabs it and lets Patrick walk through first, allowing Patrick to lead them to his apartment.

“I’m guessing this is you,” Pete says, once they’ve stopped outside of the third door on the right. “It’s funny, because I literally live right down the hall.” Pete gestures in the other direction.

“No shit,” Patrick says, beaming up at Pete. He’s leaning against his door, and he almost feels like Pete should kiss him, but that's one thing Patrick’s not going to do before the first date.

“I’m totally serious dude, makes it that much easier for me to stop by for a visit. Although you should probably give me your number so I don’t have to show up uninvited.”

“Give me your phone,” Patrick says, reaching out for the device. Pete hands it over, and Patrick quickly enters his number into the contacts.

“Thanks Patrick,” Pete says with a smile brighter than all the fluorescent lights in the hallway combined. “I’ll text you tomorrow sometime so we can set up that date.”

“I’m holding you to that.,” Patrick says, beaming back. “Right now I’m ready to go back to bed though.”

“Me too dude,” Pete says. “I’ll let you go.” Pete starts making his way down the hall to his own apartment

“Goodnight!” Patrick calls, turning to open the door. When he turns the handle, he realizes that he locked the door behind him when he left. He goes to reach for the key in his jacket pocket- before remembering that his jacket, along with his keys, and his phone, are inside. Fuck.

“Everything okay?” Patrick turns to see Pete standing outside the door of his own apartment, obviously watching Patrick.

“Oh, yeah,” Patrick says, chuckling embarrassedly. “Just locked myself out of my apartment.”

“Oh, no worries,” Pete says with a devious smile. “You can stay at my place.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!


End file.
